


Pirate Girls and Promises

by aurora_australis



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Fluff, Gen, MFMM Year of Quotes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-14 19:43:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aurora_australis/pseuds/aurora_australis
Summary: Crime and punishment and biscuits.





	Pirate Girls and Promises

**Author's Note:**

> Just under the wire, my contribution to the MFMM Year of Quotes -- March Challenge.
> 
> Inspired by the Lucy Maud Montgomery quote from _Anne of Avonlea _, “After all,” Anne had said to Marilla once, “I believe the nicest and sweetest days are not those on which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”__
> 
> Many thanks to Fire_Sign and 221A_brina for the very helpful beta read!

She was dead. 

She knew she was dead. She wasn’t supposed to be here, but she had snuck in anyway to admire the treasure, just like she had done a hundred times before. But somehow this time it had all gone wrong. And now she was dead. 

So yes, she _knew_ she was dead. And yet, she was still alive. How curious. No matter, it was a temporary state. As soon as her mother found out she would be dead. And her mother _always_ found out. 

She took a deep breath. All right. No sense getting upset. She was a pirate girl. And pirate girls were not afraid. So she would confess. Confess her crime and accept her sentence like all the brave pirate girls who had come before her. 

_Or..._

Or she could _fix_ the mistake before it was noticed, and no one would be the wiser. After all, pirate girls were clever as well as brave. And sometimes that cleverness could save them.

Perhaps Annie Collins would live after all.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Full of pluck and with half a plan, Annie snuck out of the bedroom into the hall quietly, staying close to the walls to avoid the creaky floorboards. She made her way to the stairs and stopped, listening for any sounds from downstairs. She heard men’s voices in the kitchen, and Dr. Mac having a quiet conversation on the phone, but that was all. Slowly, she started down the stairs, the doctor’s voice becoming increasingly audible during her descent.

“...Well I’m leaving aren’t I? No sense cooling my heels here for another hour, she might be rappelling down a building or stowed away on a yacht as easily as on her way home, and I’ve got work to do…. Ha!...Yes, yes, what time does your train get in?.... All right, I’ll see you tomorrow then….Yes, of course….I’m looking forward to it….Special how?.... I’m teasing….Yes, well, you knew I wasn’t particularly funny _exactly one year ago this Friday_ , so I think that’s on you…. No…. _No_ …. Because telephone operators don’t always mind their own business and I’d hate to give this one apoplexy - I’d only wind up having to do the autopsy later anyway…. Yes, fine…. Until tomorrow then…. A loue ye, Sarah.”

Mac hung up the phone and headed towards the door. She grabbed her hat from the peg and put her hand on the door handle, but stopped before she actually opened it. A lifetime of friendship with Phryne Fisher had practically made suspicious her default setting, and so she turned at the faint noise behind her. Halfway down the stairs, Annie Collins froze.

“Hello Annie.”

“Dr. Mac... Hello. Were you leaving?”

“I was. Seems someone forgot we were supposed to have tea today.” Mac took a step towards Annie - who was doing her very best to look like innocence personified - and fixed her with a look so familiar, she was sure the good doctor had been coached by her Uncle Jack in interrogation tactics. Or possibly the other way around. “Are you all right?" Mac asked. "You look a little breathless. Where’s your mother?”

Annie pulled a face. Honestly, why did everyone think she was always up to trouble? She was only up to trouble AT MOST half the time. “Oh, I’m fine. She’s upstairs ‘considering the evidence quietly.’” Annie lowered her voice slightly and continued, “But really she’s taking a nap in Jane’s room.”

Mac smiled and rolled her eyes. “Ah. Well, pregnancy will do that to you. Tell her to come by my offices for a check up soon, though goodness knows she’s a pro at this point. Try to stay out of trouble until she wakes up, hmmm? Oh, and if Miss Fisher deigns to come home, could you tell _her_ I have better things to do than wait all day for a royal audience?”

Annie giggled. “Yes ma’am.”

“Good girl. I’ll see you later, lass.”

“Goodbye, Doctor.”

As Mac closed the door behind her, Annie plotted. She needed silk thread, a beading needle, and scissors. Last she had seen her mother’s sewing kit it was in the parlor, so she turned and headed inside. A quick survey of the room turned up the small basket, and the sought after thread and needle. Excellent! But where were the scissors? The sound of laughter coming from the kitchen warmed her heart and then froze her blood. That’s where she had last seen them. Drat! How would she possibly sneak in there? A new approach was needed. Annie put on her sweetest smile and made her way into the kitchen, looking for all the world like an angel on a heavenly mission. As always, Mr. Butler noticed her first. He looked up from his cards and smiled at her.

“Hello Miss Annie. I didn’t realize you were here today.”

“Grandma’s sick, so I came to work with Mum today. The boys got to go with Uncle Tommy to work. Apparently they’re more...”, Annie tried to remember the word her parents had used, “come-paint?”

Mr. Butler corrected her with a gentle smile, “I believe you mean _compliant_. But don’t you worry, young lady, I don’t think you’ll need to know it too often in the future. And good job, too.”

“Hey, uh, Annie, love,” Uncle Bert interrupted, in a manner that wanted desperately to be casual and so was anything but. “Where is your mum then?” As he spoke he moved his cards to his lap, and looked prepared to do the same to the small stack of biscuits in front of him.

“She’s upstairs resting in Jane’s room.”

Bert visibly relaxed, causing Cec to chuckle. “Honestly Bert, how are you still this scared of sweet Dottie?”

“Because I’ve got sense, that’s why!”

“You coulda fooled me.”

“Oi! You be quiet! And I happen to know you’re just as scared of her as I am. You just live a less interesting life is all. Too dull for a scolding these days.”

“Yeah, that must be it, mate.” Cec winked at Annie, who giggled in response. Bert stuck his tongue out at the both of them and went back to eyeing his cards.

Mr. Butler, attentive as always, shifted his focus from the cabbies and offered Annie a biscuit from his pile, which was by far the largest on the table. She accepted and then scanned the room as she chewed.

“Can I help you find something, my dear?”

“Oh yes. I was looking for the sewing scissors. I… I’m working on something for Aunt P.”

Not a lie, Annie thought, just a different interpretation of the facts. 

Mr. Butler looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, then stood and handed her the scissors from their place atop a shelf. Under his keen gaze, Annie wavered. It might not be an outright fib, but Annie hated disappointing the people she cared about. And Mr. B. was someone she cared very much about. She considered confessing, but the sound of the front door opening and closing refocused her attention on the urgency of the matter. 

She thanked Mr. Butler for the scissors and the biscuit, then headed back towards the stairs. Realizing that someone was still in the front hall, she stopped and waited in the dining room, patting her sweater to confirm the needle and thread were still in her pocket.

Never particularly good at just waiting quietly, Annie peered around the doorframe and saw Miss Fisher removing her hat and gloves by the front door. Oh no! Aunt P was home already! This could be disastrous. She had to act fast. She was just considering her options when she heard a knock at the door. Miss Fisher opened it, revealing a pair of policemen on her front porch.

“Hello, Jack! Forget your key?”

“Police business, police knock, Miss Fisher.”

“Oh I see. Well come in then, the both of you.”

The Inspector tilted his head in acknowledgement of her words and stepped inside, his Constable close behind. As soon as they were through the door, Hugh spoke, looking around anxiously even as he addressed the lady of the house and his boss. “Thank you, Miss. Inspector, do you think you need me right this moment?”

“No, I believe I can handle this interrogation on my own, Collins. Go and find your wife.”

Phryne stepped aside to clear a path to the stairs. “If the past few weeks are anything to go by, she’s probably resting upstairs, Hugh.” 

“Thank you, Sir, Miss.” And with that, Hugh immediately headed to the second floor.

In the dining room, Annie fretted.

Now _both_ her parents were here? She had risked another glance around the doorframe as her father was speaking and seen that he was clearly still on duty. Doubly bad. Dad never contradicted Mum’s punishments, but he was only ever “stern” when he was in uniform. This could well turn into an absolutely epic disaster.

She crouched down and continued observing her honorary aunt and uncle in the hall, the Inspector having removed his hat and coat by now. Peeking around the wall, her eyes continued to follow them as they moved into the parlor, but stayed in the doorway. Ugh, just go inside! She loved them both, but she did _not_ need two detectives asking her any questions today. Besides, they obviously found the doorway too cramped anyway, as they were standing absurdly close to each other.

“So, Jack, I didn’t realize you’d be home so early.”

“I didn’t realize either, Miss Fisher, but I have to go where the evidence leads me, and in this case, as the evidence is in your...” he scanned her outfit, somewhat more thoroughly than was strictly necessary, “décolletage, it seems I’ve been led _here_.”

“Still easily led, Jack?”

The Inspector didn’t answer, just crossed his arms and sighed heavily. Miss Fisher rolled her eyes and moved farther into the parlor, her partner close behind.

“Oh fine. But I was only going to get the letter translated for you.”

“Kind, but unnecessary, Miss Fisher. Hand it over.”

“Just like that? Why Jack, don’t you want to search me?”

Annie couldn’t hear the Inspector’s response, but she knew her aunt and uncle well enough to realize they were now fully absorbed in each other; this was her best chance to make a quick escape!

She rounded the corner quietly and hurried up the stairs with a single minded efficiency. She moved down the corridor quickly, and was so focused on her task that she was practically in front of Jane’s door before she realized it was open. She stopped in her tracks, trying to determine her next move. She could hear her father speaking inside the room.

“I’m sorry, Dottie, I didn’t mean to wake you. I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”

“I’m fine, Hugh. Just tired. I was hoping to be past the completely exhausted stage by now, but I’m afraid the baby has other ideas.”

“Oh, look at that, a defiant Collins child. Shocking.”

Dot laughed. “Yes, they are that. Defiant. Loud. Rambunctious. Brave. Smart. Kind. You know, all in all, I think we make excellent children, Hugh Collins.”

“Well you certainly do. I’m just pleased not to muck it up too much.”

“Stop it. You’re wonderful. And I love you very much.”

“I love you too. And I had an idea.”

“Oh yes?”

“I was talking to Mr. Butler this morning, and he’s agreed to come over this evening to sit with the children after supper.”

“Where will we be?” 

“At the pictures.”

“The pictures? Hugh, we can’t go to the pictures! I have chores I need to get done tonight.”

“Actually, Dottie, you don’t have chores tonight, because in addition to watching the children, Mr. Butler will be doing everything else you might do of an evening, and anything he doesn't get to, I will. And before you start in on how we can’t possibly ask him to, you should know it was his idea. The chores part. Not the pictures. That was all me.”

“I don’t know, Hugh, it seems awfully… decadent.”

“Dottie, you hold this entire family together. You deserve decadent every once and awhile. And honestly it’s been ages since we had a night out together.”

“Mmmm, yes, about five months I should think.”

It was Hugh’s turn to laugh at that. “So please, let me take my best girl to the pictures, and maybe get an ice cream? We can take a walk along the foreshore and remember a constable and a lady’s maid who used to take the same route, dreaming of what we have now.”

“Now that, Hugh Collins, sounds just perfect.”

Annie was mortified, for several reasons. First of all, she felt terrible for eavesdropping on her parents like this. But also it seemed like they might start kissing soon, and she did _not_ need to see that. What she needed was to get past the door and into Aunt P’s room immediately. Momentarily hearing nothing from her parents, she took a chance and rushed past the open door towards the master bedroom. She slipped inside and closed the door.

All right. No time to lose. Back to the task at hand. Annie put the scissors, needle and thread on the vanity and got on her hands and knees to search. The pearls were mostly confined to the area directly under the vanity, but a few had rolled under the bed. She crawled underneath and began collecting them. When she was confident she had them all, she started to shift back out, but as she did her foot caught one of the legs of the side table and it began to fall. Annie threw her hands up blindly, desperate to prevent further disaster as the table and its contents hurtled toward the floor. Luckily she caught the intricate lamp before it hit the ground. Unfortunately, she missed the actual side table and it toppled over with an enormous crash.

Annie held her breath and waited. For a brief, beautiful moment she thought perhaps that she had exaggerated the impact, that the noise had only been deafening in her head. Perhaps no one outside the room had even heard it? Perhaps this could all still be salvaged. 

Then four sets of feet came rushing through the door almost in tandem. Annie, still on the floor, looked up to see her parents, Aunt P, and Uncle Jack all staring at her. She looked at the evidence around her, and in her hands, and knew it was over.

Annie Collins was dead.

Her mother was the first to speak, though it was perhaps better described as a bellow.

“Annabelle Aurelia Collins - _**what did you do?!?”**_

Annie had the good sense to look contrite at her mother’s words. It helped that she actually felt that way.

“I… I’m so sorry! I was just looking, I swear! I was being a pirate girl and looking for treasure, and I found it, but when I picked up the necklace somehow the string broke, and the pearls slipped off and went everywhere, and I thought I could fix it, and I had a plan, but then I knocked over the table and...” she was near to tears now but making a valiant effort to fight them, “and I just made it so much worse.”

He mother looked furious. Her father looked stern. Aunt P looked sympathetic. And, as usual, Uncle Jack was just impossible to read. She sat there, waiting for her mother to reprimand her.

To her surprise, it was her father who spoke next.

“Annie, sweetheart, I know you didn’t mean to, but it appears that you damaged Miss Fisher’s property. And you were prepared to lie about it. How do you plead to the charges?”

Annie looked miserable. She felt worse. “Guilty.”

“And what do you think your punishment should be?”

“I should fix the necklace.”

“Someone should fix the necklace, though I believe your mother is better qualified. So I think perhaps _you_ should do all of her cleaning and mending for the next few weeks so she has time.”

“Yes, sir.”

Dottie, having calmed down a bit, added another condition to the plea deal.

“And next time you come to work with me, you’ll either be helping Mr. Butler in the kitchen or reading quietly at my side. There will be no more exploring in Miss Phryne’s bedroom.”

Jack coughed loudly and then looked to the ceiling. Phryne narrowed her eyes at him but refrained from comment.

“And I think you owe Miss Phryne an apology.”

Annie turned to her honorary aunt, but couldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry Aunt P. I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted to play pirate girl with real treasure. It won’t happen again, I _promise_.”

Phryne kneeled down, lifting the little girl’s chin and looking her in the eye.

“It’s all right, Annie. I accept your apology. And I know you never break your promises. Just be careful next time, mmmm? Perhaps, play spy instead of pirate? Requires a more subtle touch, darling, but I believe in you.” She winked, and Annie smiled, tremulous though it was. “Now, I believe Mr. B. has some tea with your name on it in the kitchen, yes?”

Annie nodded and looked at her parents for confirmation that she could go. Hugh gave her a small smile and Dot gave her daughter a kiss on the forehead. Annie took a deep breath and took her mother’s hand.

Crisis handled, and punishments handed out, Dot led Annie out of the room, Hugh following closely behind.

As they were leaving, Phryne crossed to the vanity and began collecting the rogue pearls from the floor. Jack knelt to help her, shaking his head, and fixing his mouth with a small smirk. “Unlike you to be so careless, Miss Fisher, leaving your valuables out in the open like that.”

“You know me better than that, Jack. I keep my real treasure in a much safer place.”

And with that, she reached over to the bed, releasing a latch and revealing a hidden compartment within the headboard. Nestled inside, underneath a cloth bag with a beloved blue ribbon, and next to a faded letter from Welfare, were a small tin badge and a swallow pin.

After all, pirate girls were clever as well as brave.

**Author's Note:**

> “A loue ye” is, according to multiple internet sources, “I love you” in Scottish. If that's not what it actually means, I apologize to all Scottish speakers everywhere. And I really hope it’s not a curse or something. ;-)


End file.
